It’s been almost a year since I launched this site and the very first post, Flying the Coop. Cheers to the recent payment I made to keep it running for a second year!
Some of you know that I’ve been job hunting for that dream career move since my return from Spain. I don’t think I found it, but what I did find is a job that will give me money.
And sometimes, when a pandemic has befallen the world, that’s good enough.
Can’t be too choosey when you’re unemployed.
Besides, I really fucking hated not working all the while knowing how capable I am to do all of the things I applied for over the past 6 months.
Perhaps I have too much self-worth tied into “having a job,” but who honestly believes they’re living their best life when they can’t afford to support themselves?
And, of course, now that I have been training for all of 10 days, I’ve hit that vicious cycle of – not regret – but questioning the decision to accept the job. Partly because of the aforementioned dream pause and partly because, you know, life is hilarious, ironic and a bitch all at once.
Yesterday marked my third interview in 4 weeks. After months of nothing. And 2 of those jobs are more of what I’d like to transition towards.
The thing is, an interview is not a guarantee. So I feel like I made the right call in my decision to accept what was offered first.
It was a rather dramatic decision-making process, actually. Like, I literally cried when I saw the offer.
I agree that’s a bit of an insane reaction, but let me explain all the feels in that moment.
I thought this job might make me feel just like how I did last year before I quit oil & gas. I was worried about making a bad choice for giving in to something I wasn’t excited about. I was facing the actual reality of leaving Houston.
All of this was frightening!
Though once the anxiety abated, I was able to rationalize what I truly wanted more than anything: to move forward. Which wasn’t possible without some sense of job security.
So I took the job knowing that it isn’t the destination, but another stone on the path.
The proverb, ‘Rome wasn’t built in a day,’ still makes so much sense in modern times.
And with that, I’d like to say forgive me for being so absent these past 2 months. Before the job came along, I was painting A LOT and didn’t have the itch to write.
What can I say? I go where the creativity flows and it was flowing in watercolors.
(I tried to insert more pictures of my art here, however, the hotel’s internet service isn’t up to the task. Stayed tuned for more on hotel living in the next post.)
In 9-12 days, depending on move difficulties, I will be making the transition to my new home some 280 miles north of Houston.
It’s a place where a Supernatural hero was born, a place where the annual state fair draws in over 2 million people, and a place where there are just as many terrible drivers as every other large city in the United States.
Watch out, Dallas, I’m coming for ya.